


Trust Me

by Benedicthiddleston



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Gunshot, Head Wound, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Love, M/M, Marriage, Russian Roulette, T'hy'la, i will protect you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 19:08:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1316002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Benedicthiddleston/pseuds/Benedicthiddleston
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim is forced to play Russian Roulette. Spock is not okay with this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust Me

**Author's Note:**

> So, March is the month of [BINGO! At 1_Million_Words](http://1-million-words.livejournal.com/559180.html). This one-shot is from three prompts on [my bingo card](http://i956.photobucket.com/albums/ae45/heffermonkey/March%20Bingo/hurt1.jpg): Gunshot Wound, Head wound, I will protect you. Major angst, hurt/comfort, love, and some mild graphic depictions of violence - however, they are mild.
> 
> I also was influenced by the quote: “The person you would take a bullet for is behind the trigger.”
> 
> Proofread once, no beta, and I DON'T OWN ANYTHING!

**Trust Me**

This was not exactly how Jim wanted his honeymoon to go.

One minute he had been kissing Spock Vulcan style and grinning at the group of Vulcans and Humans in the wedding party, the next he was shivering half-naked in the back of a musty old space cruiser that was about twenty years older than Jim himself.

Thankfully, he was mostly uninjured except for the throbbing headache in the back of head. He was sure he not only had a concussion, but he was bleeding. Except he couldn’t check. His arms had been wrenched behind his back and duct taped together. _Duct tape and cockroaches. The two things that will survive to the end of the universe_.

Beside him lied his new husband and three-month long lasting bond mate Spock. He was breathing normally, and looked uninjured. He was awake, but meditating. Jim had grown silent in the time since he had gained consciousness, and Spock had taken that silence to begin to meditate.

Jim had no idea who had kidnapped them, nor the demands that they wanted to be made. He knew he was the best and brightest in Starfleet, as Captain of the Federation’s flagship, the _USS Enterprise_. Along with Spock, First Officer and Chief Science Officer, they made a brilliant command team. They had been in the midst of their five year mission, barely just married on Vulcan, when this _shit_ had gone down.

They didn’t have to wait long, however.

“The newlyweds are awake. How sweet,” came a gruff, masked voice as a bipedal figure stepped through the obvious force field targeted to certain DNA – the bastard had managed that much in terms of excellent security, as the field was meant to detain both the human Captain and Vulcan First Officer.

“What do you want with us?” Jim hissed, his voice sounding rough and unused. How long it had been since they had been kidnapped, he wasn’t sure. Being knocked out hadn’t helped his since of time or direction in any way shape or form.

The figure laughed as they leaned against the cell wall. “You want information, I understand that. However, I have a proposition for both of you. And yes, I know that Vulcan boy is awake and alive. I know more than you think.”

Jim glared, glancing back at his lover, noting Spock hadn’t opened his eyes at the entrance of their supposed kidnapper.

“My proposition is this: We’re going to play a game with one of you, and for each wrong answer, you will suffer. You can save yourself from this game and the suffering if you give me the coordinates to the mass storage center that I shouldn’t even know about that is holding seventy two cryotubes of a superior human race.”

“Are you _mad_?” Jim can feel the anger rising up in his tired body. “You think I’d give you that information, even if I _knew_ the answer?”

Their kidnapper laughed again. “Of course you know the answer, _Captain Kirk_. You’re Starfleet’s poster boy. You know all the answers. And you _definitely_ know where they stored those humans. You helped put them there.”

“You know not what you are speaking of.”

Jim’s eyes flashed to Spock’s face, relieved to hear his bond mate’s voice once again.

“Oh, I think I do. Now, you both have about twenty minutes before we enter a really rough patch of the neutral zone, to which then we will be in Klingon space. And they’ve been eyeing this cruiser for a while. You have about a minute to decide if you want to give me the coordinates or play Russian Roulette.”

 _No. No. I know of that game. That game is_ –

“I will play.”

“NO. NO, HE DOESN’T GET TO DECIDE,” Jim all but screams, frantic. _Spock, NO!_

“I will not let you die again.”

“Do you even know what Russian Roulette is?! IT’S ARCHAIC. AND AWFUL. SOMEONE ALWAYS DIES, SPOCK. ALWAYS!”

The stranger laughs for the third time. “You would rather play the game then give me the coordinates? Fine by me.”

Jim struggled to a sitting position, eyes wide with fear, anger rising out of his mouth. “I will play, and you don’t touch Spock. Ever. At all. That’s my deal.”

A shrug. “I can deal with that. However, I have one condition.” Simultaneously, a six-chambered revolver is pulled from the dark recesses of the stranger’s coat. They were rare and the bullets even more rare. But their kidnapper must have been lucky – all he needed for Russian Roulette was one bullet, one revolver, and the victim was going to need a ton of luck.

“I will not let you participate, _Jim_.”

“I can’t lose you. And you must understand this: _I will always protect you, Spock_.”

Spock doesn’t retort verbally, but sends anguish and fear through their bond. Jim shudders as they both watch in morbid fascination as their kidnapper pulls out a metal bullet, opens the revolver’s spinning chamber, slams the bullet into one of the unoccupied chambers, spins it, and slams it shut.

_That is how Russian Roulette is so dangerous. The probability of dying is 1 in 6._

_And he will ask six questions._

“And what is that condition?” Jim asks, his voice strong, but his mind racing.

They can’t see the stranger’s morbid smile, but they can sense it. “Spock gets to hold the trigger, or I will kill him in cold blood.”

Jim’s face pales. Spock wrestles in Jim’s mind, but Jim doesn’t let Spock get a chance to fight it. “F-f-fine.”

Their captor drags Jim up onto his feet with an unyielding force, shoving him against the wall. “Get up, Mr. Spock.”

With a hesitancy Jim has never seen in his Vulcan’s form, Spock slowly rises to his feet. With a quick flick of a disclosed knife, Spock’s bonds are released. “You do anything funny, I will harm him.”

 _I will not let him harm you_.

_Damn it, Spock!_

But their fight ends immediately as their captor forces the revolver into Spock’s hand and together they press the revolver into the space just above Jim’s left ear. Jim can feel Spock trembling. _Oh god_.

“I am going to ask some basic questions. A few are easy; a few others are not so easy. Fortunately, I know all the answers. Each wrong answer means Spock will pull the trigger. When you have decided to give me the correct answer, and to comply with my wishes, I will stop the game. However, there is a chance you may not make it to the second question. I would choose your words carefully. Consider the fact I am making your new trophy husband play a part in this pitiful excuse of an _execution_.”

Jim grits his teeth. “Just get on with it.”

“What are the coordinates to the storage facility housing Khan Noonien Singh?”

_I don’t know them. I don’t. I do not know the coordinates. Spock… Spock!_

“I don’t know.”

Jim braced for impact, the gun clicking on command.

Nothing happened.

_One down. Five to go._

“Is it true you died during the Khan incident?”

_Why do you care?_

“Yes.”

“Is it true you were the main instigator to get the super humans refrozen and not destroyed?”

_Ha-ha. No._

“Depends on who is asking.”

“Pull the trigger, Mr. Spock.” The gun clicked unexpectedly, and Jim flinched.

Nothing happened.

 _Two down. Four to go_.

_T’hy’la, do not do this for me. I cannot watch you die._

_I won’t let him hurt you. I will never let him or anyone else hurt you_.

“Then tell me, _Captain Kirk_ , what are the coordinates to the storage facility holding the seventy two super humans from the 20th century?”

_Jim, please._

_I can’t tell him. I WILL NOT TELL HIM!_

“What will happen if I do tell you a set of numbers and you find out I’m wrong?”

With a force Spock could not control, his hand pushed the gun harder into his lover’s skull and the familiar faint click echoed in both their ear. But no pain, no anguish, _no death_.

 _Three down, three to go_. Jim knew his luck would run out. He just hoped his skull was strong enough. He figured his brain wasn’t.

The next words out of their kidnapper’s mouth were harsh and bitter, with a side of fierce anger, “My patience is done, Captain. I don’t know where that bullet happens to be, but you don’t have much longer in this _universe_. What are the coordinates?!”

 _Enough, ENOUGH!_ Spock’s face said it all – Jim’s precious Vulcan was the half-human effortlessly failing to hold onto his emotional ground.

 _Just like last time._ Jim had to make sure Spock was safe.

“You will not harm Spock. You will not.”

“TELL ME!”

“NO!”

It was the last thing Jim said before it was all over.

* * *

Three weeks later Spock was holding tight to Jim’s hand as they sat in their quarters back on the Enterprise. The cruiser had ran out of gas two days after their kidnapper had been murdered by Spock’s hand – that had been their kidnapper’s first mistake, making Spock hold the gun – and the Enterprise had caught up to them quickly once their distress call had gone out.

However, the memory of that awful time was still etched in their minds. Jim couldn’t sleep. Spock was having unusual nightmares.

“It will be okay, T’hy’la.”

Jim sighed, leaning against Spock’s form. “I know,” he whispered.

“You are safe.”

“Thank you, for not letting me die.”

 _I love you_. Jim was a bit sappy. He was like that in their relationship. _We didn’t get our honeymoon._

_Being with you is my honeymoon._

_You are such a dork._

_I agree with everything you say, Jim._

_No, you don’t._

_You are my t’hy’la. You are the love of my life._

_And I am yours._


End file.
